Mobley sighed and fell into his chair, hanging his head.
"And you handed that little toady a confidential report," Grissom said. It wasn't really a question….
"He…he was already coming this way," Ecklie said, with an elaborate open-handed defensive gesture. "Told me the sheriff was busy in a meeting, and…anyway, it's not like that was the only case we had on our plates…"
"Just the biggest case in Vegas so far this century," Mobley said softly.
Ecklie swallowed and continued: "…and besides, the report was going straight from here to the FBI. After all, at that point it was just a kidnapping."
Sara couldn't believe anyone could, with a straight face, say "just a kidnapping"; but she knew better than to get into this.
Mobley's fist banged off his desk.
Sara jumped a little and Ecklie flinched; Grissom had no reaction.
The sheriff's face had turned a delicate shade of pink, definitely on its way to the full-blown red-faced rage for which the sheriff was famous.
Mobley used the intercom to tell his secretary: "Mrs. Mathis, get Ed Anthony back up here, now!"
Within minutes-long, strained minutes, during which Sara, Grissom, Ecklie (seated now) and Mobley waited silently, the sheriff's rage palpable-a timid knock came to the door.
"Come in!" the sheriff bellowed.
It was not the most inviting invitation Sara had ever heard….
The door squeaked open and Ed Anthony's hairchallenged head poked through the narrow opening; the political adviser's eyes were bright, or was that just…fear?
"Wanted to see me, Brian?"
"Get your ass in here, Ed."
Swallowing, the aide shut the door gently and padded over, standing beside Sara, his hands fig-leafed before him. "Problem, Sheriff?"
Mobley picked up the manila folder, shaking it nastily. "Did Conrad Ecklie give you this report, to pass on to me?"
Anthony nodded meekly. "Why? Is that a problem?"
"Well, you didn't pass it on to me, did you?"
"No…I didn't."
"Do you know what's in this report?"
The political hack looked everywhere but at the sheriff. "Yes. I, uh…gave it a read."
He might have been talking about the latest Stephen King novel.
Grissom turned Anthony's way and said, pleasantly, "And then you decided to hold it back until the election-so you could use it to smear Mayor Harrison?"
Anthony said nothing.
"That," Mobley said tightly, "is tantamount to withholding evidence."
"No! No, I was protecting you, Brian."
"Protecting! You're about to screw my career over!"
"Not at all." Anthony patted the air, placatingly. "I was attempting to help you. Information of that sensitive a nature needs to be released carefully, at an opportune time. Correctly used, that's the ammunition we need to-"
"We?" Mobley interrupted, on his feet again, hands flat on the desk. "There is no 'we,' Ed. You're fired."
"Brian, I understand that you're concerned. And we both know you have a temper. I'm going to advise you count to ten and-"
"You're not going to advise me about shit, from here on out!"
"Brian…"
"Get out! Get out!"
And now Anthony was almost running to the door.
But Mobley froze him: "And don't even think about leaving town, because if I can find a way to bring charges against you for this, I will."
At the door, with a little space between them now, Anthony suddenly summoned some anger of his own. "For what, Brian? For trying to get your hot-headed ass elected mayor?"
Sara was not quite able to process that mixed image.
"No," someone said, calmly.
Grissom.
His voice was quiet, the serenity of it causing the other two men to stop shouting and gape at him: "For aiding and abetting. For possibly turning Candace Lewis's kidnapping into a murder."
Anthony gestured to himself, his eyes enormous, almost as enormous as the fear in his voice. "I…I…I didn't kill her!"
Grissom's tone remained placid. "You withheld key information from our top law enforcement officer…the sheriff, here…information that might have saved her."
"You can't know that."
"You're right, I can't, I don't-and now? None of us ever will."
Finally Grissom stood, turning toward the former aide. His voice was so unthreatening that it went beyond any threat: "But I will tell you this, Mr. Anthony. Without your interference, that young woman might still be alive…. A fact that will not reflect well on your candidate-Sheriff Mobley."
"Out, Ed," Mobley said, sounding fatigued. "Just go."
Face white with alarm, features slack with defeat, Anthony slipped out.
Turning his attention to Ecklie, Mobley said, "You know better than this, Conrad."
Ecklie nodded; the normally egotistical supervisor now seemed humble. "What can I say? I was careless. I screwed up."
"Yeah, you did."
"Brian, I appreciate this…you being so understanding."
"You're welcome, Conrad-three days' suspension. No pay."
Swallowing hard, Ecklie accepted his punishment in silence.
"Go home, Conrad. And if you breathe a word to the media, I'll fire your ass, too."
Nodding, Ecklie left the office, his eyes never landing anywhere near Grissom and Sara.
With just the three of them in the room, the silence seemed deafening. Finally, Mobley was the one to shatter it. "I know," Mobley said, "I don't have to tell the two of you what to do."
Still on his feet, Grissom nodded, picked up the report and headed toward the door, Sara following him. They were almost there when Mobley's voice stopped them.
"Am I in the clear as a suspect yet?"
Turning back, Grissom said, "Not yet."
"DNA?"
"Don't have those results yet."
"I suppose it would be mean-spirited to hope it turns out Ed Anthony did it."
Grissom managed a miniscule smile. "Not really, considering it would probably kill you politically."
Mobley grunted a laugh. "Sometimes, Grissom, having an apolitical asshole like you on the team is a real benefit."
"I appreciate the compliment, Brian. And if it helps-I believe you're innocent."
"Don't tell me that's a hunch?"
"An educated one. Just don't tell anybody."
The sheriff tried to smile but couldn't quite muster it.
In the hall, all business, Grissom said to Sara, "We need a search warrant for Mayor Harrison's house and home."
Sara frowned. "Will a judge give us a warrant based on that DNA evidence?"
Shrugging, Grissom said, "Not only were they having an affair, we also have His Honor's fingerprints in her car, day she disappeared. Go to Judge Giles-he'll listen to reason."
"All right."
They were still walking down the hall when Grissom's cell phone chirped. He took it from his belt, punched a button, and raised the phone to his ear. "Grissom."
He listened for a while.
Then he said, as they walked along, "All right. Sara and I have something to do here…. Well, that'll make Mobley feel a little better, anyway."
He listened again, Sara unable to read him.
"All right-stay in touch." He punched the end button then and replaced the phone on his belt.
They walked a little and then Sara asked, "Do I have to beg?"
"That was Warrick-he got carpeting samples from the sheriff's house. None of it matches our remnant."
"That's good news, I guess. For Mobley, anyway."
"One step at a time," Grissom said. "We still have other suspects."
"Like the mayor."
"For one. Now, let's get that search warrant and ruin Mayor Harrison's day."
7
GARY RANDLE'S BELLIGERENCE WAS NOT ENOUGH TO EARN Catherine Willows a search warrant for the suspect's house. But it did provide extra weight in landing her a court order for fingerprinting the Newcombe-Gold employee, which meant-the courthouse being the courthouse-the process took till Wednesday morning. In the meantime, however, Catherine and Nick had learned a good deal about the advertising man.